Ten Ways to Kill Ember
by Scarlet Embers
Summary: Probably best not to read if you're an Ember fan. Please do review if you have any ideas on how I can kill Ember. :D Rated M for language, violence and sex.
1. BFFL

-Author's Note-

Be warned – this is a mature fanfiction and contains lots of swearing, violence and sex. It's also best not to read this if you're a die-hard fan of Ember and would be offended by chapter after chapter describing her graphic death.

But if you're not, please enjoy. This is set in a universe where all the Spyro Universes are mixed-together. Expect a reference of Warfang, the Dragon City, and then another of Magma Cone in Avalar.

Ten Ways to Kill Ember

Chapter One

Death by Suffocation

I hate her.

I fucking hate her.

I hate her so much I could kill her. I hate so her much I could just sink my teeth into her delicately polished scales, savouring the taste of blood as I tore through her muscle until my teeth met bone. I could rake my claws along her small yet shapely body, relishing the rip of flesh beneath my paws, the wet sensation of blood as it ran down her pink hide and coated it with red. I could chop her tail off and rip her wings out and beat her until her pretty little face was a mess of cuts and burns and bruises. And then I could set her alight and scatter the ashes all over the realms.

I want her dead, I really fucking do. She ought to be on the floor right now: a screaming, bloodstained heap of slut - not standing here, in front of me, living, _breathing._

She isn't dead.

But she will be.

"So, I was wondering if we could, like, go out shopping at the mall or something, right?"

Ember the Dragon: adolescent whore.

"And then like, after, we should go to a club or something..."

"Ember." Steam wafts out of my nostrils as I take a deep breath. _In. Out. _Through gritted teeth I say, "What in our ancestors' name makes you think I would come out shopping with you?"

"Your jewellery." I look blankly down at my steel choker and bracers. "You need new jewellery. It looks like shit."

I clamp my mouth shut to stop myself from tearing a chunk out of her – or worse, incinerating her. She's staring at me, blue eyes wide as saucers, and I wonder if she's finally twigged that I want to rip the life right out of her body.

"We should give you a makeover!"

No, that would be too much to ask from someone as stupid as Ember.

"Oh, it would be so _fun! _We could go to the Dragon City, try on some clothes – and jewellery, of course – then have our scales rubbed down and polished, and _then _we could have a manicure..." She babbles on and on, her eyes glazed and distant as if she is imagining it. I contemplate having my claws done – they are getting rather long, and it might be easier if they were all varnished and short and filed to a rounded point – then decide against it. _How am I supposed to kill that whore of a dragon with blunt claws? _"And you might actually look pretty for once!" she adds, smiling, oblivious of the fact that she's just insulted me. "I mean, if you look really different, people might think that you're not actually Cynder, you know – the 'Terror of the Skies'" - the chuckled at the title as if she couldn't believe that I could ever be terrifying - "and they might stop, like, hating you."

That fucks me right off.

_She's _the reason they all hate me.

_She's _the reason I'm in this mess right now.

_She's _the reason my life is in goddamn shambles.

It all started when she stole my boyfriend. It was after we'd saved the world, and people were _just starting_ to actually trust me again after I was possessed by the Dark Master when I caught the two of them fucking. Of course, I wasn't very happy about that. I battered the chick; beat her until she was black and blue. I was just doing what any other dragon would have done if they'd caught their boyfriend cheating on them, but the Dragon Kingdom didn't take too kindly to that.

The Dragon Kingdom doesn't take too kindly to the saviour of the realms harming 'innocent' civilians.

The Guardians tried to help me, naturally – mumbled some shit about me not 'being in control', that I was 'under the Dark Master's influence' when I attacked her – but that made it worse. People didn't just treat me like a criminal; they treated me like _scum. _It was even worse than they'd treated me before, because they hadn't been around when the Dark Master attacked; they'd all been hiding, like the little fucking cowards they are. But now they had a living, breathing example of what I was capable of.

It's lucky they left me alive, but I wish they hadn't. I can't even go out and take a dump without someone looking at me as if I'm something disgusting they wish they hadn't seen.

Naturally, I crawled back to the Dark Master with my tail between my legs. I didn't think he'd welcome me, but I suppose he had to. When Spyro and I defeated him we trapped him in a crystal prison. He couldn't do anything but talk, really, so he needed someone to carry out his dirty work.

If I knew I'd end up working for Malefor, I never would have bothered to fight him in the first place.

"Um, earth-to-Cynder? Are you even, like, listening?"

The thing that pissed me off most, though, was that it was all for nothing. She didn't even have a proper relationship with him – it was just a few weeks of sex and then she chucked him because he was 'boring'.

But because she isn't going out with him any more, she's under the stupid impression that we're friends. No matter what I do or say to her, she never leaves me alone. She's like some rabid fangirl; a borderline stalker.

She calls it being a 'BFFL'.

"_Cynder!"_

"_What?" _

"So, I was wondering if we could, like, go out shopping at the mall or something, right?"

X

"Fuck off!" I hiss as a duo of dragonesses barge past me, glaring and whispering.

How that little pink pain managed to drag me here is beyond me.

"I'm so glad you decided to come with me, Cynder," Ember announces cheerfully. She's walking – almost skipping, really – beside me, gazing around Warfang as if she's never been here before. Her eyes glitter with excitement as she takes sight of the overpriced trinkets as well as all the male dragons around, like a child in a candy shop.

I suppose she is like a child in a candy shop when it comes to males, though. She could have any male here – any male at all. All she has to do is swing her hips a bit when she walks and bat her eyelashes at them and they all flock to her like bees to honey.

_More like flies to cheap meat, _I think as I feel a pang of jealousy. If any males ever look at me, it's with fear or disgust.

My thoughts turn to reality as a group of dragons walk by, all carrying bags of worthless shit. They slow as they see Ember, then immediately quicken their pace again when they catch sight of me next to her. Ember frowns as they walk away; then her eyes lighten up again as they wander over a jewellery stall.

"Ooh, we should definitely stop by _that_ stall! Or should we keep on walking to see if we can, like, find a cheaper stall? The stall here is run by Moneybags, so it's, like, _guaranteed _to be expensive. Gosh, that bear is, like, _so _greedy! _And _he's fat. I could never let myself get that big. His necklaces are better quality, though. Higher prices, but, like, better necklaces. Oh, Cynder, what should we do?" She stops babbling and pauses stupidly in the middle of the street. Then she throws back her head and gives a squeal of shrill, high-pitched laughter. It's like someone dragging a fucking nail across glass. "Oh, why am I asking you? Like _you _know anything about necklaces! Your choker is so ugly."

I want to choke _her_.

"Just keep walking, slut."

"I'm not a slut!" I stomp away from her and she has to scurry to catch up with me. "Is it because I, like, called your choker ugly? Sorry, but it is. Well, I guess it's not _that_ bad. Maybe if you had a silver one instead of steel, and, like, stuck a few gemstones on it, it might look almost pretty."

I whip around to face her. "No, Ember, I did _not _call you a slut because you said my choker was ugly. I called you a slut because you're a dirty little whore who likes to fuck anything with a pulse. You get attention because you're _pretty" _- it pained me to say it - "and then you piss away all that potential by misusing the benefits. Perhaps if you didn't constantly fucking irritate my by insulting my fashion sense, or end up fucking just about every dragon you talk to, then maybe – _just maybe – _I might not call you a slut."

Ember stares at me, gormless.

Then,

"Let's go and check out the scarves!"

By the fucking ancestors.

X

"Oh, yes, _very _nice!" approves the bear when Ember drapes one of his scarves around her neck. It's obviously one of Moneybags' sons; he's fat, he has an Arabian accent, and the scarf is far too expensive.

Ember frowns, staring at her reflection in the mirror. "I'm not sure about the colour," she mutters, half to herself. It looks fucking terrible; it's so long the end of it is in a crumpled heap on the floor. The scarf itself is so big it dwarfs her and makes her head look tiny. You can barely see her snout above fold after fold of silk.

She looks like a slutty Egyptian mummy.

"It's... It's just..."

"Too jazzy?" the bear suggests.

"Yeah," she agrees, wriggling out of the folds, "too jazzy. You got anything else?"

She winks at him, and I feel a surge of anger. I want to gouge out her eyes but I try and keep my voice sweet and steady as I murmur, "How about _I _choose a scarf for her?" I smile at the bear and add, "I'm her best friend. I know what she'll like."

The bear nods and allows me to rummage through the racks. I pick out a scarf - a beautiful, glittering blue ribbon of silk – and take it back to Ember.

"Oh, yes – very, _very _nice," smiles the bear, and then goes back to sorting through his scarves.

"It is, isn't it?" the pink dragon glows as I drape it around her neck.

"Mmm, definitely," I say. "Brings out your eyes."

She admires her appearance in the mirror for a while, and then frowns.

"Cynder? You're putting it on me too tight."

I ignore her and carry on wrapping it around her neck, like a silk cobra ready to constrict. She shakes her head around as if uncomfortable, and I continue to wring it around her neck, one fold going over her snout.

Tighter...

Tighter...

Then pull.

She doesn't look too bad at first.

And then the scarf tightens and she makes a little choking sound.

She takes a deep breath and I pull the scarf tighter – viciously this time. She splutters, and with every breath she takes I pull it tighter, strangling her, smothering her. She thrashes around but the more she moves, the tighter it gets – like a dog on a collar. "You like that, bitch?" I mumble through a mouthful of silk.

Her little pink tongue protrudes from her face; her face begins to turn blue; her blue eyes pop out and roll back in her head as she begins to lose consciousness. "Take it, you bitch. Take it."

I can feel excitement rising in my chest with every second that passes. I can imagine the headlines of the _Dragon Times: '20-year-old dragon killed in tragic scarf accident'. _And if they find out it was murder... Oh, what does it matter? They all fucking hate me anyway.

Just a few more seconds and she'll be out of it for good. It's a shame I had to kill her by strangling her, though – I quite fancied ripping her throat out with my teeth and claws, or sending her up in smoke.

Just a few more seconds and she'll be dead...

Dead...

Dead...

"Oh dear - I think you've tied that scarf a little too tight!"

Fuck.

I fucking hate bears.

"Whatever. Didn't like that tacky piece of shit anyway."

"Too jazzy?"

"Oh, fuck off."

-Author's Note -

The last part of the chapter is a reference to the Inbetweeners.

Now, before you review with some abuse-filled comment about me being an Ember-hater...

I'm really not. Honestly, I actually love Ember. And I don't like Cynder - hate her, in fact. I just thought this story would be fun to write.

Please do review if you have any ideas on how Ember can die. :)

Scarlet x


	2. Rainbows

Author's Note -

Ta very much for the reviews, guys. I appreciate them; they motivate me and keep me writing. And I don't just mean the fact that it proves people are reading my story; I also love all the hilarious ideas people come up with!

I decided to go with Spyrofan777's ingenious idea of an overdose, since it seems the most fitting for this chapter. I was originally going to have Cynder get roaring drunk and smash a bottle over Ember's head, but hey-ho.

Again, be warned that this contains lots of violence, sex and swearing. I had a review that told me the characters swear too much, so I've tried to tone it down a little in this chapter.

Please enjoy.

Ten Ways to Kill Ember

Chapter Two

Death by Overdose

"Vodka tonic, please!"

Ember winks at the bartender – a robust, red-head satyr with a disgusting beer-belly – and I feel the urge to kill myself there and then. _Is she determined to flirt with every single creature that talks to her? _He's a _satyr, _for the ancestors' sake, and isn't even a good-looking one at that. He grunts and pours her the drink, and I feel almost sick when she pushes her chest out and bats her eyelashes at him.

"Thanks, Steve," she smiles.

Gosh, if that whore pushed out her chest any further she could practically polish the glass cabinet where all the drinks are kept.

We ended up going to a club after our day out shopping in Warfang. I wasn't going to come with her , but after I failed to kill her by strangling her with a scarf I reckoned I needed another shot. It seemed silly not to take the opportunity, especially as we managed to get in here for free. The bouncers drooled over Ember's body as she shimmied in; their eyes followed her until she disappeared in a haze of smoke and lights and bodies. I think they were too hypnotised by her voluptuous curves to take a proper look at me. I don't think they would have let me in otherwise, if they'd known who I was.

But despite that, it's going to take a lot for me to actually enjoy this place. It's too fucking hot, for starters. The club – Magma Cone, I think it's called – is based inside a volcano which means that you're attacked by a wave of heat as soon as you walk in, and that's not mentioning all the people in here packed close together. It's too hot to even stand in the fucking crowd, let alone dance.

The coolest place in the entire volcano was the bar because all the drinks are kept in refrigerated glass cabinets. Ember seemed quite happy to get a drink when I suggested it. The little pink bitch probably has drunken sex every night.

"And what can I get for you, miss?" The bartender looks at me expectantly from under his bushy red eyebrows.

It's going to take a lot of alcohol to get me through this night.

"Red-headed Slut," I say.

"Coming right up," Steve grunts and reaches for a shot glass.

I slap my tail on the floor in irritation. "No, no. Not a shot. I want it as a _drink."_

He pauses, frowning. "Er, I don't think that's a very good idea, love."

"I do," I snarl. "Pour it as a drink, you red-headed slut."

"Now don't you be calling _me _a red-headed slut here..."

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I like, asshole."

"At Magma Cone we do not tolerate abuse towards any member of-"

"Do you know who I am?" I lean in so he can get a closer look at me. His eyes travel to my thin, almost skeletal body; my scales, black as night; the markings on my shoulders and forehead; my crimson belly; my magnificent wings and my long, sinuous tail, both ending in notched silver blades; my three sets of sharp, ivory horns; and finally they meet my own eyes: intense slivers of emerald, deep and dark and calculating.

It's always the eyes that does it. People could catch a glimpse of my knife-like claws or a flash of my pointed snout and they wouldn't recognise me, but as soon as they see my eyes they know it's me: the Black Dragon Cynder, the Terror of the Skies.

Usually I hate it when people act differently when recognising me, but tonight I feel a glimmer of satisfaction as I watch the colour drain from his face and the fear flood into his eyes. With shaking hands he pours the drink into a large glass and pushes it towards me.

"Thanks," I smile, deliberately giving him a view of my devilish fangs.

Then I chug my drink.

It's good.

"So, I was thinking that we could, like, pull some guys tonight."

I nearly spit out my drink. Ember is leaning towards me, her blue eyes wide and serious. _Is she for real?_

"Ember," I say, taking another swig of my drink, "is that all you think about – fucking boys?" Because the drink has made me a little more confident, I add, "Your pussy must be so fucking wide from all the sex you have that you could fit my fucking head in there. One day you're going to get pregnant and you won't even realise it because your pussyhole is so big the egg will just _fall _out."

"Hm." Blank stare. Then, "So, I was thinking that we could, like, pull some guys tonight."

Ancestors, give me strength.

Another swig. "Ember, why would you _want _to pull any of the guys here? They're all fauns and satyrs."

I glance at the dancefloor, hot with bodies. Indeed, most of the people here are satyrs like my friend the bartender Steve, or fauns – short, blue-skinned men with goat bodies from the waist down. Many of them are dancing with faun girls who all speak with the same annoying lingo as Ember. Multicoloured lights chase across their breasts and asses.

We don't belong here.

"So what?" the pink dragon shrugs, sipping her vodka tonic. "I fucked an armadillo once before."

"Ember," I say in the calmest, clearest voice I can muster, though I realise it probably sounds like a bumbling slur, "if you want to pull some guys, and go back to their place after and get drugged or raped or murdered or all three, you do that. But don't expect me to come along with you."

Her eyes widen in excitement. "So you mean I can fuck any guy I want, and I don't have to, like, share with you or anything?" She wraps her wings around me in a dragon hug. "Thanks, Cynder. You're, like, the best friend I ever had!" Then she bounds away into the crowd, abandoning her drink.

I gulp the last of mine.

What a hussy.

X

I'm spinning towards oblivion with her front paw interlocked with mine. No matter how hard I pull or struggle, her hand stays clasping mine, like a limpet sucked to a rock. I flail around, trying to free myself from her – from this vortex of light and shadow. I spiral down in a daze of swirling and flashing lights.

Red.

Amber.

Green.

Green. Green means 'go'.

_'Go.'_

_'Let's go. With me. Outside.'_

She pulls me further into the vortex, her eyes two blue beacons of light. She's pulling me towards the shadow-people in the vortex. They're jumping around in slow-motion, their narrowed eyes glittering hungrily like a row of monsters.

No. I don't want to join the shadow-people.

Help.

Confusion.

Weightlessness.

We fall faster and faster until we hit the darkness at the bottom.

Then nothing.

X

Oh, fuck. I think I just pissed myself.

X

Freezing.

But calm.

I breath in the cool night air. It's too hot in there. Far too hot.

I lick my lips and feel that they're dry. It feels like all the moisture has been sucked out of my body; I can barely produce enough saliva to even swallow.

But I feel better.

I look around for water and see a faun leaning against the brimstone wall of the volcano. She's watching me as she smokes a cigarette – thoughtfully, though, not fearfully like most people do. Her bluish-green eyes glimmer with curiosity like a scientist watching a particularly interesting specimen from under a microscope. I can almost see the cogs whirling in her brain going _tick, tick, tick._ She's wondering what to do about me.

After a moment she walks over to me. The clip-clop of her hooves sound eerily loud in the quiet of the night. I can hear the music playing from inside the volcano still but it sounds muffled, faraway, distant.

_Clip-clop. Clip-clop._

"Hey," she says.

I stare at her, wondering what I should say back. I feel like telling her to fuck off but it won't come out. It feels as if time has slowed; as if my brain has decided to take a nap. I open my jaws, trying to force a word out.

Then I vomit all over the floor.

"Hey," I rasp back.

She looks me up and down. Takes a drag on her cigarette. Breathes out. The smoke hangs in the air.

"You're the Black Dragon, Cynder. The Terror of the Skies."

I'm not feeling brave enough to try and reply so I just nod.

I expect her to look frightened or to walk away from me, but she doesn't. Her eyebrows shoot up and she says nothing. Just takes another drag on the cigarette.

"Who are you here with, then?" she drawls, making conversation.

I want to ask her the same question. She doesn't look like any of the other faun girls I've seen. Instead of grey her skin is a soft peach colour, and her fur is a warm chestnut. Unlike the hair of the faun girls in the club, which was black and plaited, her hair is red and hangs down her shoulders. She doesn't look like she's with the clique of valley-girl fauns I'd seen.

But I like the look of her.

"Ember," I slur. Vomit clings to my teeth. I can taste the acidity of my drink on my tongue. I feel a little better now most of the alcohol has passed out of my system, so I try for a longer sentence. "Little pink dragon. Whore. You know her?"

"Oh, I know her." The faun laughs. "_Everybody _knows _her. _The Pink Dragon, Ember. The Bike of the Dragon Realms."

I chuckle, and we subside into silence. The music pumps out from the club. The faun takes a drag on her cigarette. I inspect my vomit. It's thin and orange-yellow in colour and it has lots of little lumps in it.

"Listen," the faun says suddenly, turning to me. "Do you want to buy some drugs?"

She holds out her hand. In her palm is a cluster of little white crystals, all pulsating with some sort of energy. If you were to look closely you would see all the different colours of the spectrum dancing within the gems, as if someone had caught a rainbow and trapped it inside. I think of Malefor, trapped within his crystal prison. He used to give these to me these when I was growing up to make me stronger.

Spirit Gems.

In small doses they make your breaths more powerful, and they make you feel good.

In large doses they make you completely off your head.

And sometimes, if you take too much, and wash it down with a lot of alcohol, it can kill you.

"I'll take the lot," I say.

Her eyebrows shoot up and she says nothing.

X

Oh, fuck, I really don't want to go back in here.

But I have to.

I disappear into the crowd of ravers. It's a nightmare for someone with claustrophobia. They're everywhere, and there's no way I can get past them without bumping into them somehow. In the end I give up and take to thrusting past the lot of them, slithering past them like a snake before they can shout at me.

One courageous faun girl – the grey valley-girl type – whips around when I headbutt her in the back. I try to slink away but she grabs my tail and yanks me backwards.

Bad idea.

Don't touch my fucking tail.

Ever.

"Like, who the fuck do you think you are?" she spits. Her faun girlfriends move behind her, all either glaring at me or looking me up and down like I'm something disgusting they just stepped on. They look like a pack of wolves, ready to attack at their leader's command. "You don't even, like, belong here. This is for _fauns, _not dragons!"

I was trying to keep a low profile, but there's no fucking way I can get out of this one. Steam billowing out of my nostrils, I hiss, "Who do I think I am? _Who do I think I am?" _I take a slightly-drunken step forwards, teeth bared. "I _think _I'm the the Black Dragon, Cynder, the Terror of the Skies! Now do you and your pack of _hookers _want to move out of the way, or shall I prove to you how terrible I can be?"

The faun-girl pauses, her mouth forming a perfect O as if she's never been spoken back to before, before bursting into tears. Cupping her face with her hands she rushes out of the club, the rest of her clique following her like lost sheep.

The people dancing around us had obviously seen the commotion because they parted as soon as I walked within a metre of them. Rather quickly I locate Ember: standing on her hind legs, grinding her ass against some faun boy. Only she could be completely oblivious to everything that's going on around her.

I crawl over to her, conscious that everyone else has formed a circle around us and is watching us. "Ember."

"Oh, hi, Cynder!" she says, dropping back onto all-fours. Her smile is too wide; her eyes too bright. She's obviously drunk a lot already.

Good.

"Ember," I growl, "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Go, then!" She waves me off.

"I need you to come with me."

She stares at me as if I'm crazy.

"Erm, Cynder," she whispers, leaning in, "you don't actually want to, you know, like, _go _to the toilet with you, right? And, like, you know – wipe your vagina, and stuff?"

"_No!" _I hiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see the faun Ember was dancing with looking at us. In a lower tone, I say, "Ember, you're my best friend, right?"

Her eyes light up. "Right!"

"And all best friends go to the bathroom together, right?"

The pink dragon blinks as if she's just realised something. "Is it your period?" she whispers sympathetically.

"Just come to the fucking bathroom with me, Ember. _Now."_

X

Ember peers curiously at the Spirit Gems under the artificial lighting. I didn't even bother to be secretive about whacking out the drugs – there was nobody in the bathroom. One faun girl was applying some make-up in the mirror and scarpered pretty sharpish when she saw me, but that was it.

"So, what exactly do these crystals, like, do?" the dragon asks.

"If you take all of it, it makes you look really, really beautiful. And if you take it with alcohol you become really slim without losing any of your curves," I explain with a completely serious face.

"_Really?" _she exclaims, her eyes widening. "That's like, amazing!"

"I know. That's why it's so expensive when you buy it," I say.

"Can I take it now?"

"Go for it!"

She reaches forwards and then hesitates. "Wait," she murmurs suspiciously, her eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you going to take any?"

I roll my eyes as if it's a stupid question. "I've already taken some, you dumb bitch."

"You don't look very beautiful."

For once, the pink pain is right. My eyes look dazed and sunken where I've drunk so much alcohol, and the edges of my mouth are caked in vomit. I pick a lump from between my teeth and flick it onto the mirror. "Just take it."

"OK, whatever."

I feel excited as she places her paw on the crystal cluster. She glows with a rainbow-flecked aura as she absorbs the crystals. They glimmer and shimmer as they are drawn towards her until suddenly there are no more crystals left. She then immediately reaches for the bottle of alcohol I bought for her – and spiked, of course – and chucks it down.

Glug, glug, glug.

Gulp.

She chucks the bottle at the wall. _Smash. _Then she looks at me at smiles.

_No. I don't fucking believe it. Ember, who has never even touched so much as a painkiller before, has just overdosed on Spirit Gems, washed it down with spiked alcohol, and is still standing._

I want to cry.

What a waste of fifteen-thousand gems.

Then something happens. She drops to the ground, and stays there for a moment before convulsing. It's almost frightening; her body shakes violently as if Malefor himself has possessed her, and her legs twitch and spasm. She vomits – not just lumpy, watery, orange-yellow gunk like I puked, but blood, too. She heaves again, and again, and inhales to take a breath but can't. If I were really her best friend I would have put my paw down her throat and scooped the vomit out, but I don't. I leave her there, convulsing, spluttering as she chokes on her own vomit.

I sit on the toilet and urinate. I leave the door open so I can stare at the portrait of death I have just painted. Why, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen – more beautiful than her face when she was being strangled by the scarf. Just seeing her lie there, in a pool of her own blood and vomit. Her eyes are wide open but I don't think she can see herself. It's a shame, really.

Wipe and flush.

Stand and admire.

Then I walk out of the bathroom.

X

"_Oh my fucking gosh! What the fuck happened here?"_

I smile, hearing the faun-girls scream upon discovery of Ember in the bathroom. It's music; almost as sweet to my ears as Ember's frantic coughing and choking and spluttering.

Almost.

"Is she breathing?"

My heart stops.

No.

Please, ancestors, let her say 'no'.

"Yeah."

…

No.

No, no, _no. _

Fuck.

-Author's Note -

Apologies if it was a bit long. There was a lot to cram in that chapter. And yes, Red-headed Slut is actually a shot. I thought it would be very fitting for this chapter. :)

About the part that describes Cynder falling in the vortex... I think it's pretty easy to understand what's happened to her, but if you don't then I'll PM you.

I was originally going to use swamp mushrooms for drugs instead, but then I decided on Spirit Gems, the little rainbow-coloured crystals in A New Beginning. I remember when Spyro breaks one and absorbs the crystal shards, and then exclaims, 'It felt as if the power of a thousand suns surged through my body!' Yep, those things definitely make him stoned.

So how should Ember die next? I have an idea of the setting for the next chapter, but not how she should die. Suggest ideas and I'll pick the most fitting. Thanks very much, guys.

Scarlet x


	3. Sensation

Author's Note -

Ugh... Here comes the dreaded sex scene. It absolutely pained me to write this, and I've been putting it off for this very reason. I'll have you know that I do not enjoy nor take pleasure out of writing about fictional dragons getting it on. It actually disgusts me. But it was only fitting for this chapter, really.

I was originally going to do this with Flame the Dragon, but I realised it'd be a little out of character for him. The dragon in this chapter isn't actually an OC – he appeared as an egg in Year of the Dragon, and I figured he should be around Ember's age by now – but he doesn't actually say anything, which meant that I was free to build upon his personality with only the restrictions of his name and what he looked like to hold me back. :)

Hope you enjoy, guys. And I mean the chapter, not the lemons! :S

Ten Ways to Kill Ember

Chapter Three

Death by Hanging

My head hurts.

No more alcohol for me. Not fucking ever. My head feels like someone is repeatedly stamping on it whilst wearing high heels; my teeth are so rotten with alcohol they feel like they are coated in fur; and my throat...

Ugh. Dehydration.

I need water.

I stagger out of my bed; a plush, velvety cushion. My paws sink deep into the red fabric. By the ancestors – I can't even remember the last time before now that I slept in a proper bed. I've been living in a little squat of a cave for so long, away from civilisation... away from harm. It's lucky that Ember – fuck knows how that stupid bitch found my hideout – hasn't told anyone where I live, or else I'd have an angry mob at my door in an instant, like the last time and the time before that.

Ember...

_Smack!_

I walk straight into a wall.

Focus, Cynder. Water. Walk.

It takes me what seems like forever to find the kitchen. I stumble wearily through corridor after corridor, every bone in my body urging me to get back to bed and sleep but my mind telling me that I'll feel even worse if I don't drink. I don't think I've ever been inside a house before; I've always lived in the Temple, or a cave or someplace sheltered outside, and it feels strange to walk in a place that isn't as open as I'm used to. I can't believe that people would live in somewhere so big yet so enclosed, with four walls around you and room after room littered with worthless shit like pictures and plants.

I find the kitchen at last. Ember is there, tampering with a stove of some sort, but I ignore her and instead lurch to the sink. Standing on my hind paws I gulp down the water straight from the tap, then turn back to Ember. She's now breathing fire into the little stove, though they're nothing more than little embers, really. I lick my lips and stare at her through narrowed eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Making waffles," she replies. "I can't get this dumb stove to work. Can you, like, breath some fire in it for me? I was never good at fire-breathing in school."

"No, I meant what are you doing _here, _in a stranger's kitchen?" I look at her suspiciously, my head suddenly bursting with questions. "Where the fuck are we, Ember? And what happened last night?"

The pink dragon smiles. "Charlie is no stranger."

"Charlie? Who the fuck is Charlie?"

"Oh, just some dragon who I met at the club last night," she says casually, giving up on trying to light the stove.

I squint, trying to remember the events of last night: heat and light, drink and drugs. Fauns – and a lot of them. A stocky, red-headed bartender; a group of grey faun girls; and then a faun girl on her own, with blue-green eyes and chestnut hair, smoking a cigarette and handing me a batch of little crystals.

Fauns, and satyrs.

But no dragons.

"Ember," I say, "we were the only dragons at the club last night. Magma Cone is for fauns only. They only let us in because you flaunted your body, you stupid slut."

She rolls her eyes as if _I'm _the stupid one. "Of course there were dragons at the club last night, Cynder; you were just too drunk to notice them. That's partly how we ended up here." She giggles. "You and I were so smashed that they were going to, like, take us to a hospital or something, but Charlie said that he was with us and because he was a dragon too, they believed him and let him take us home!"

By the fucking ancestors.

"Ember," I growl, my voice low and hoarse from my hangover, "are you a complete and utter moron? We were drunk, stoned and headed for a stranger's house, and you speak as if that was a _good _thing! I bet he's a fucking _dragon elder_!"

"Who's a dragon elder?" says an unfamiliar voice.

At that moment a green dragon appears. I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot that he's not much older than us two; then I realise that this dragon might not even be the 'Charlie' that Ember spoke of, and stiffen.

"Who are you?" I ask him cautiously.

"Name's Charcoal," he yawns, "but everyone calls me Charlie." He arches his back in a stretch, then peers at me. "And you are...?"

"Cynder," I say dryly, "but everyone calls me the Terror of the Skies. Don't worry," I add when I see his expression change, "I won't kill you as long as you let me sleep off this hangover in peace, and don't tell anyone else that I'm here."

He nods and I slink out of the room. As I leave, I here Ember's high-pitched voice squeak, "So, do you wanna, like, titfuck me? I won't mind if you get it all over my face."

X

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

That noise is awfully familiar.

X

"I'm home, Spyro! Sorry I'm late; I had to help this hatchling who'd lost his mama in the city..."

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

What is that?

"Spyro?" I call uncertainly, my voice echoing throughout the stone walls of the Temple. "Is that you?"

I walk towards the place the noise is coming from. I'm curious as to what I might find, but a small niggle in the back of my mind tells me that I already know.

Push open the door.

Creep ever-so-silently around the corner.

And find Spyro having sex with an unfamiliar pink dragon.

Something inside me snaps. I can feel a dark fury coming on; a fury I haven't felt since Malefor corrupted me before we fought him in his lair. The black flames hide my heart, threaten to engulf me in their darkness and anger.

And for the first time ever, I welcome it.

"What the _fuck _is going on, Spyro?" I snarl, marching over. His jaws open slightly to speak, but I cut him off. "Actually, don't bother trying to explain; it's clear enough what's going on here. It's clear enough, Spyro, that you are an arrogant, lying, _cheating _piece of _scum."_

Before he has a chance to reply I whip around to face the pink dragon, tail lashing in rage.

"And you," I hiss, "who the fuck are you?"

I look her up and down through narrowed eyes. She's a pretty little dragon – a few years younger than myself, I should think – with big blue eyes surrounded by long black lashes. Her body, unlike my thin build, is plump and curvaceous. A golden heart-shaped necklace hangs from her elegant neck. Her mouth – her small, sweet little mouth that was probably around Spyro's dick a few minutes ago – curls into a smirk, like a naughty schoolgirl who has just been caught doing something she shouldn't by the teachers. She's either extremely dumb, or extremely brave.

"Hi," she says. "I'm Ember."

I grab her by her necklace and hurl her face-first into the door, sending it open. She stumbles forward before catching herself on the rim of the Vision Pool. Her snout hovers inches above the surface.

Before she can get up I'm onto her. Bring my tail up; slam it down with extraordinary force. Hit the back of her head, forcing her face into the water. She shatters her reflection into a million pieces when she breaks the water, which is how my heart feels right now, except I'm not one of those girls who cry and grieve over the broken shards. I'm one of those girls that will pick up a shard and stab whoever is responsible.

She begins to struggle. Three bubbles rise to the surface, one by one. I hold her head down by my claws for a little while longer, then haul her out of the water suddenly. She opens her mouth to take a deep breath; as she does so I thrust her head back into the water, feeling a surge of satisfaction when I hear her snout crack against the bottom of the pool.

"Cynder!" Spyro shouts, dashing in. "Stop!"

He's obviously been to fetch the Guardians because Terrador, Volteer and Cyril all come running in behind him, looks of horror on their faces. I ignore them, though; continue to slam Ember's face in the pool. The water begins to turn from blue-green to red-brown.

Her pain is all that I can think about, even when Spyro knocks me away and the Guardians seize me, struggling to hold me down.

I struggle less and less. Their faces turn to colourful blurs – pink, purple, green, yellow, blue. The dream morphs and twists and warps until it is not my dream anymore.

Not my memory.

X

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

_Mmm...?_

_BANG. BANG, BANG._

_Shut up. Go away._

_BANG, BANG, BANG._

"Do you mind keeping the fucking noise down?" I yell, irritated that I had been rudely awoken by my dream. It was a good dream, too. Can't quite remember what it was; just that it was good. Actually, I think it might have been...

_BANG, BANG, BANG._

Fuck.

I rise up out of my nest, stretching each leg in turn. Light filters through the window, bathing the room in a warm orange glow and telling me that I've slept until late afternoon. I slink out of the room, making no sound save for the scratch of my claws against the wooden floorboards, though even that is hardly audible with the loud banging sound echoing throughout the house. It sounds as if someone is being bludgeoned with a hammer.

_Please let that someone be Ember, _I think, then regret my words.

_I _wanted to bludgeon Ember with a hammer, not leave it to some random dragon she met at a club.

I locate the sound of the noise and find that it's coming from the kitchen. I open the door slowly, bracing myself, expecting to see gallons of blood strewn across the floor and dripping from the walls, and what has been left of poor, bludgeoned Ember.

I don't, though. I see two dragons fucking on the kitchen table. Two of the table legs are slightly wobbly, and the edge of the table bashes into the wall with every thrust.

Ew. People eat off of there.

I'm just about to turn around and walk right out of the house when Ember spots me.

"Oh, hi, Cynder!" she gasps between moans.

Shit.

I turn around. "Hi," I mumble through gritted teeth.

"You're up!"

"Well done for stating the obvious, powderpuff. I _was _asleep until you woke me up with all that banging."

"I know, right?" Ember grins. "We've been banging, like, all day!"

"I meant the banging _noise_, you stupid whore..."

Charlie stops thrusting. Ember pauses for a second, and then her eyes light up. "I have an idea!" she squeaks excitedly. "We should have, like, a threesome!"

_No way, slut, _I think, then suddenly have an idea. Why, it's so cunning and crafty, I don't know why I didn't think of it before. It's a way to kill Ember whilst making it look accidental.

Trying to look sexy, I lower my eyelids and puff my chest out, just like Ember does whenever she sees a male coming her way. "What a great idea," I purr in a throaty voice.

Charlie looks a little perturbed as if wondering whether it's a good idea to have sex with the Black Dragon Cynder, but his worries are soon forgotten when I run my long, sinuous tail saucily over my body and expose to him my pussy.

Ember cheers.

"So... How exactly is this going to work?" I ask. "There are two of us and only one of him..."

"Don't worry," Charlie pipes up. "I'm exhausted. I love lesbian, though, so I think I'll just sit here and watch..."

Almost nervously I lay on my back as Ember commands me to. It feels strange; usually I'm always the one in control, but now it's Ember who is dominant. It doesn't feel... right. Ember notices that I've tensed up and tells me to relax. I do so, inwardly cursing myself for displaying weakness in front of her. But even so, I feel scared.

I feel Ember's paws move slowly down my blood-red underbelly until they reach the sensitive scales around my slit. Her claws slide over it, and for some reason my cunt is dripping wet. _What the fuck? _She moves her front toes up so that they touch my clitoris. And then, ever so gently, she presses on it.

"Oh!" I yelp as pleasure rockets up my spine, then snap my jaws shut. _I did _not _mean to just do that!_

But as Ember moves her front claw in circular motions over the fleshy bump, my pleasure mounts and it becomes harder and harder to control my moans. What is this? I mated with Spyro plenty a time, and I never felt pleasure like this. But then again, he never touched my clitoris. It was always the same old thing; him on top. I might say that sex with him was boring, but I suppose I never really knew any different at that time.

Ember continues to rub my clit, and the pleasure intensifies. It feels as if a lightning bolt is shooting up my spine. Just as the pleasure is about to overlap into a feeling of ecstasy, she stops. I let out a small growl. "What have you stopped for? Keep on going, slut."

"Oh, you!" she giggles. "I never knew you liked to talk filthy in bed. Wait until you feel _this_!"

Then the pink dragon gently slides her claw into my wet slit.

I flick my tail impatiently as she moves her front toe in and out of me. It feels a bit like sex with Spyro, except her claw is much smaller. But then with her other paw she rubs my clit again, and my pleasure instantly mounts. It feels even better than last time. Every time she pushes her claw in, the feeling intensifies. It's amazing.

The pleasure increases until I feel faint. I gasp and squirm, lost in a world of bliss, and the feeling gets so strong I feel just about ready to explode. But before I can Ember stops once again.

The pink dragon grins and winks. "Hold on, Cynder. I've got one last trick up my sleeve."

I wait to see what else she can do with her paws, but to my surprise she instead moves her head forwards. She plants a trail of kisses across my jaw, down my neck, working her way down until I can feel her hot breath against my pussy. Teasingly, she nips softly at my clit, giving me a sudden spasm of pleasure.

It's driving me fucking mad. I can't take it anymore. Frustrated, I grab her head and shove it down there.

Fuck.

Wow.

Whatever she's doing down there, she's fucking good at it. Shockwaves of pleasure surge through my body. My moans become louder, uncontrollable. I lean my head back as I reach my limit. Enormous waves of pleasure crash over me; my moans fill the whole house; I writhe as spasms fill my body, each sensation weaker than the last.

Charlie jizzes.

I pant, trying to get my breath back and figure out what the fuck just happened. I've never had a feeling like that when mating with Spyro. It's the best thing I've ever felt. I want to feel it again, but when I touch my clit again, I feel not pleasure, but numbness. All the pleasure and arousal, it seems, has leaked out of me alongside the clear, sticky liquid that has ran down from my cunt and soaked the table.

Satisfied, I roll onto my belly to go, completely forgotten my original motive, but Ember taps me with a wet, juice-covered claw.

"Um, Cynder? You haven't finished _me _off yet," she giggles.

Oh, yes. I remember now. I was going to kill her. I feel almost reluctant about it now, though. Why murder her if she's capable of making me feel like that? Hm, might keep her as a sex slave instead.

But I don't feel aroused anymore, and I'm not sure how to do what she just did to me anyway, so I revert back to my original plan. "I had a slightly different idea," I smile. "Are you into sex games?"

Ember nods, excited.

"Good. I have this particular fantasy, you see: I've always wanted to tie up a hot chick like you and hang her from the ceiling. Then..." I lower my eyelids. "I can do whatever I want to you, and you can't do a thing back."

Ember's eyes light up. "That sounds fun!"

"Sure does," Charlie grunts from the corner. "I think I can have another round. Shall I go and get some rope?"

"I'll get it," I say.

X

After a few minutes, my beautiful deathtrap has been completed. I read in the newspaper all the time about people who have died like this, and if I can convince the public that Ember accidentally died in a hardcore sex game then I can kill two birds with one stone by eliminating the annoying pink powderpuff and then walking free after it.

The pink dragon herself is hanging by her neck from a rope, tied to a chandelier on the ceiling. _Like a dog on a lead, _I think, which seems appropriate considering who Ember is. She's standing on her hind legs on a table so she can't suffocate to death, but it also means that she can't move around. She has to stand still and take my beatings or risk suffocating to death.

I don't understand what sane dragon would agree to this, but I suppose it's the thrill of it – knowing that you might die, but you won't. Well, that's what _she_ thinks. I'll just play around with her for a bit before I decide to knock the little table away.

I tease her for a bit, running my tail along her clit. It does look quite erotic, her suspended there...

Wait, what the fuck am I thinking? I'm turning into Ember.

I begin to turn nasty, whipping Ember with my tail and scratching her. Charlie groans from the corner. They think it's aggressive passion. Ha.

_Thwack._

That one is for stealing my boyfriend.

_Thump._

That one is for messing up my life.

_Slash._

That one is for being an annoying little whore in general.

I beat her for a bit more before the game begins to get tiring. I just want to kill her now. I lick my lips with the anticipation. Just think – I'll be able to kill her _and _I won't be jailed for it. And if no-one believes me, I'll have Charlie as a witness to tell the public that it was all a tragic accident.

I give her one last hit, then whip around suddenly.

My tail sweeps the floor in a circular motion, hitting the table legs and brushing the table swiftly from under her. With no table to stand on, Ember drops. But the rope is short. There is a loud _crack _as the rope swiftly closes around Ember's neck. Her head lolls as she is suspended just inches above the floor.

Dead and hung.

Now _that _is a sight to make my pussy wet.

But just as I am about to relish in my glory, Charlie rushes forwards.

"_No! Ember!"_

As quick as a flash, the green dragon slices through the rope. Ember drops in a heap to the floor, her head bent at an awkward angle.

Charlie darts over to her and bends over her, his front legs working furiously. I sit there, smiling. _It's too late, you stupid fool. She's dead._

"It's a good thing they taught me first-aid at school!" Charlie breathes. He grabs hold of Ember's beautiful face. I will him to dig his claws into it, to crush her head and mash it into a thousand pieces, but instead he lurches it to the side. Ember's head gives another almighty _crack _as he pulls it back into places, like the sound that's made when you crack your knuckles but louder. "Thank the ancestors her neck was just dislocated! Just think, Cynder, if you'd cut that rope _an inch shorter _it would have snapped her backbone and killed her!"

One inch.

I was one measly fucking _inch _to killing her.

It's like giving a kid a lollipop, and then snatching it away again.

I think I'm going to cry.

Author's Note -

Sorry for the wait, guys. But like I said, I really didn't want to write this. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Next chapter they'll be doing a job for Malefor. I already have an idea for how Ember can die, but if you have any better ideas, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Scarlet x


	4. Bloodlust

Author's Note -

I'm a little sad that my last chapter didn't get as many reviews as usual. :-( One reviewer said that the chapter was 'boring', so I edited the Spyro x Cynder dream to a Cynder-killing-Ember dream to make things more interesting! :D If you haven't already seen the edited chapter, please take a look (and review!).

Hopefully this chapter will be more interesting, guys. ;)

Ten Ways to Kill Ember

Chapter Four

Death by Falling

I never thought I'd say this, but I am _so fucking glad _to be going back to Malefor.

Honestly, after two days and one night of having to put up with that stupid, annoying, immortal pink whore, paying a visit to my wicked old master seems like heaven. He may be cruel, and he may be manipulative, and he may even have teeth like Barney the Dinosaur, but at least he doesn't constantly mock my fashion sense.

Charlie seemed a little freaked out when I tried to calmly explain that saving Ember's life wasn't part of the plan. I then proceeded to leave, at which point he asked if I was going to take Ember with me; I said no, and left her in the kitchen, unconscious and most probably with a very stiff neck.

So now, as I walk down the cobblestone path leading away from Charlie's house, I feel elated. Why, if my life were a movie, there'd be a bright, upbeat theme playing in the background. The evening sun shines upon the street, bathing everything in a pleasant golden glow and reflecting off the cobblestones so it looks as if I'm treading on a path of light. I feel like a free dragon, walking joyfully away into the sunset...

_Cynder..._

Malefor's deep, rumbling voice cuts into my thoughts like a narrator. That's how he lets me know that he wants me; he calls my name. I think he has a habit of doing this, because once Spyro told me that he heard a dark, sinister voice call his name after he rescued me from Convexity.

_Cynder, Cynder..._

Good heavens, dragon, keep your horns on. I'm on my way. And I'm _not _going to fly, or walk any faster. This is the happiest I've been in a long time. I want to cherish this moment; this moment of freedom and bliss...

_Cynder, Cynder..._

"Cynder, Cynder!"

What the fuck? Since when was Malefor's voice all shrill and girly?

"Cynder! Wait up, you silly sausage – you're making my tits bounce!"

No. Please no. Please, _please _don't let it be who I think it is. Please let it be that I'm imagining it, or that Malefor is playing a trick on me, or that he's had a sudden sex change or _something..._

Just keep walking. Pretend you can't hear her, and maybe she'll go away. What's the name of that clothing brand she's always going on about? 'Keep Calm and Carry On.' That's what I'll do. Keep calm. Carry On.

"_Cyyyyynnndeeeeeeeeeerrr!"_

OK, there was no fucking way I imagined that.

Keep calm, girl. Stop. Close your eyes. Turn around. Don't do anything stupid, because you're on a street and someone could see you. Deep breaths. _In. Out._

Open your eyes.

"_Haaaiiiiiiiiii!"_

Fuck.

"Ember, _what are you doing here?" _I snarl, trying to control my shaking body.

"I could ask you the same question!" she shoots back, glaring. "What did you think you were doing, leaving me alone in a dragon's house whilst I was unconscious? He was a complete and utter stranger, Cynder; he could have done _anything _to me!"

What a stupid fucking moron.

"For your information, whore-bag_," _I snap, "I have somewhere to be."

I turn to walk away, but Ember jumps in front of me.

She laughs, "No you don't! You're _never _busy 'cause you don't, like, have any friends. You're lucky that you have _me_ to come and visit you and, like, take you shopping and stuff."

This fucks me off, because I _am _busy this time.

"I have a date with Malefor, _actually, _so if you'll excuse me..." I shove past her and stomp on.

A loud, high-pitched scream sounds from behind me.

"_A date!" _Ember shrieks, then runs so that she's walking beside me. Her eyes are dancing with fun. "Oh my gosh, that is, like, _so _exciting! Is he good-looking? Maybe we could have another threesome, or something. They always say you should never have sex on the first date, but I do it anyway. Wait, why am I asking you if he's good-looking? If you've managed to pull a guy with your ugly face and tacky jewellery, he _has _to be gross!" Another shrill laugh.

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Not _that _kind of date. I just meant that I'm meeting him, that's all. I need to do, er, a few little jobs for him..."

She grins and winks. "You're going to do a few little jobs for him? Now _that _sounds kinky! Can I come?"

"No, Ember, not _those _sorts of jobs. I'm not a hooker like you. I mean evil stuff, like..." I advance on her threateningly. "Like _killing _people."

Ember's eyes flash with fear for a moment, and I wonder if she's finally got the hint before they light up again.

"Oh my gosh! _Please _let me come! We'd be like Charlie's Angels, killing people and fighting the forces of evil!"

"We would _be _the forces of evil, dumbass."

"We can be bad girl cops then. I was a bad girl cop in a kinky sex roleplay once," she tells me, pressing her index toes together to make a gun shape.

"I don't care about you _or_ your fucking sexual antics, Ember. You're _not _coming with me and even if you did it'd be pointless, because Malefor would _never _have you."

X

"You know, I think I might have her," Malefor says thoughtfully. "You could always use the extra hand there, Cynder."

Ember and I are standing at the root of the volcano where Malefor's crystal prison lies, and I cannot believe my ears.

"_What?" _I shriek, furious. I feel like the volcano itself, angry and bubbling and ready to erupt. "I do perfectly well on my own, thank you! I'm the best killer in all the realms!"

"Best killer, yes," Malefor muses, "but you're not exactly the best at seducing, are you? You're notorious throughout the realms for being a bloodthirsty murderer, Cynder, so it'd take a very stupid victim not to recognise you, let alone be lured into a remote place so that you can kill them. Now, _Ember, _on the other hand..."

"Ember's notorious too!" I scream. "She's known as the Bike of the Dragon Realms!"

"Yes," Malefor says slowly, "but Ember's pretty."

That hurts like a bitch. My own master favours a slut over the dragon that has served him for years. I feel disappointed but try to shrug it off.

"And if she's known throughout the realms for being a dumb slut, nobody will suspect her of having anything to do with a murder," Malefor continues, "simply because she isn't clever enough to plot something so evil. Yes, it's decided." I can only hear Malefor's voice vibrating from the crystal he is imprisoned in, but if I could see him I'm sure he'd be smiling. "Ember will come with you."

Oh, fucking hell and bells.

I bow and say though gritted teeth, "Yes, master."

"Does this mean I can go?" Ember pipes up hopefully.

"Yes, Ember, it means you can fucking go."

She cheers.

X

"So, what's the plan?" Ember blinks at me.

"For fuck's sake, Ember, I _just told you _the plan!"

"I know, but I wasn't really listening. What was it?"

I sigh. "It isn't difficult, Ember, even for a complete bonehead like you. All you have to do is find a guy in Dragon Village, ask him if he wants to fuck, and lure him into the woods."

"And then what?"

"I'll take it from there."

She smiles as we near the village. "OK."

"I'll be watching what you do from the shadows to make sure that you don't mess up, OK? Take him to the waterfall and I'll meet you there."

"OK. See you later!" She hugs me and races into the village.

I follow her, slipping as swiftly as a shadow around the edges of the village, but Ember skips away, further than I can see.

I only find her again when I hear her; her voice is so squeaky and high even deaf old Elder Titan could hear her. I hide behind a tree, my eyes like two shards of emerald in the shadows. They narrow and glitter with curiosity, wondering what unlucky dragon Ember has picked today.

"I _said," _Ember squeaks, "do you wanna fuck?"

A blue dragon sitting on a bench narrows his eyes suspiciously at her. "Are you a hooker? Because I don't have any-"

"Nope! Free sex. Right here, right now. Actually, in those woods over there in a few minutes."

"Hm." Pause. Thought. "Yeah, alright."

"Great!" She giggles. "You won't regret this!"

Probably because he won't _live_ to regret it.

I slink back to the woods even more quickly than I had come, stopping at a tall, gnarled oak tree. Its branches overlook a huge waterfall. Large, jagged rocks rise from a steamy pool of water at the bottom. I was hoping that we'd kill this dragon, chuck him over the waterfall and then watch him sink to the bottom of the pool, never to be found again, but it's also very likely that he'll instead be impaled by the rocks. Oh well – at least if anyone finds him they'll think he was killed my the rocks, not me.

The crunching of twigs beneath footsteps breaks me out of my thoughts. Swiftly I dive into a bush. Shortly after Ember appears, followed by a blue dragon.

He's older than us by more than just a few years, but he's not bad-looking. Quite hot for a dragon his age, actually?

Shit, did I seriously just think that? Kill me now.

"How about here?"

"Yeah, babe, whatever. Look, are we gonna fuck or not?"

"Oh, you're fucked alright," Ember giggles. "Cyndeeeeerrr!"

As soon as her voice sounds I jump out of the bush. I see the dragon's terrified face before my eyes become clouded with fire and lust. I stick to him like a leech, my claws sinking into his body; my fangs sinking into his head. I rip my neck back, tearing away the sensitive skin on his scalp.

He falls to his knees.

Blood spatters everywhere.

But I don't stop. I bring my claws up, then force them down and rake them across his flank. Left, right, left, right...

The dragon stopped shaking a long time ago, but I continue to slash and bite and rip. It feels good; like I've been bottling my anger up for ages, and I'm finally letting it out. Finally...

"Cynder, stop!"

I whip around, snarling, and see Ember watching me incredulously. For the first time, fear glitters in her blue eyes as she sees the true monster within me emerge. Reluctantly I step off my kill, and see the mess that I've created: a barely-distinguishable heap of torn, mangled flesh, sitting in a pool of its own blood. An eyeball rolls away from it and sits at my paws.

Sighing, I pick up the mauled body in my jaws. Many of his limbs and organs hang from a thin thread of flesh. Then I toss it over the cliff, disappointment and regret weighing in my belly as I watch it fall. I was so close to letting out all the anger I'd been storing away for years. So close, but stopped before I could. So close.

Unless...

"Cynder? Cynder, what are you doing?"

Ember yelps in surprise as her body is grabbed. I think she's forgotten how strong I am. Either that or she's incredibly light, despite all her voluptuous curves. She struggles and squirms, but I hold on tight. I could probably crush her if I bit down hard enough, but I don't.

I throw her off the cliff.

And now – just now – as I see her fall down the abyss and vanish into a haze of steam with nothing but her screams telling me that she hasn't yet reached the bottom, all the anger, all the hatred and all the suffering...

It all melts away.

It's much easier to destroy than it is to create. Much more fun, too. Much more fun to take life away than it is to create.

I peer over the edge of the waterfall. Her screams have faded away into nothingness now. That's what I feel – nothing. Not anger; not sadness. Not joy or euphoria, either. I just feel... content. Like a heavy weight on my shoulders has suddenly been lifted.

I turn and I'm just starting to walk away when I hear:

_Splash._

I freeze, my paw in mid-air.

"I'm OK!"

And all the anger, and all the hatred, and all the suffering comes racing back.

Author's Note -

Hope you liked this chapter better, guys. I have a small inkling on an idea for next chapter, but as always, please let me know if you have any ideas for the next chapter. Keep Calm and Carry On is the name of a clothing brand in England, but I don't think they have it in America, just in case any of you Yanks were wondering what I was on about. :3

Scarlet x


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